


These Mist-Covered Mountains

by Talullah



Category: The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Gen, Tumblr: legendariumladiesapril
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-06
Updated: 2016-04-06
Packaged: 2018-05-31 15:04:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,467
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6475030
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Talullah/pseuds/Talullah
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Finduilas receives a visitor in her new home.</p>
            </blockquote>





	These Mist-Covered Mountains

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the Legendarium Ladies April 2016, for the April 4th prompts which are:
> 
>  **General Prompt: The Lights They Shine:** Many of Tolkien’s women are barred from the outright battlefield heroism of his male characters, but their contributions to the Legendarium are no less remarkable for it. Lúthien’s bravery and determination carried her to achieving her quest, Idril’s foresight resulted in the secret tunnel that saved many of the Gondolindrim, Yavanna’s love for the forests of Midde-earth and her desire to protect them gave rise to the Ents… and even small, seemingly insignificant good deeds like Mrs. Maggot sheltering the Hobbits on their journey may have an enormous effect. Explore how a female character’s actions changed Middle-earth for the better.  
>  ________________________________________  
>  **Picture Prompt: Fade into Darkness, by Natalia Drepina**  
>   
>  ________________________________________  
>  **Poetry Prompt: Water Lilies, by Sara Teasdale**  
>  If you have forgotten water lilies floating  
> On a dark lake among mountains in the afternoon shade,  
> If you have forgotten their wet, sleepy fragrance,  
> Then you can return and not be afraid.  
> But if you remember, then turn away forever  
> To the plains and the prairies where pools are far apart,  
> There you will not come at dusk on closing water lilies,  
> And the shadow of mountains will not fall on your heart.
> 
> These mist-covered mountains is the opening verse of Brothers in Arms by Dire Straits.
> 
> [Disclaimer/Blanket Statement](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Talullah/profile)

**Tol-Sirion, F.A. 62**

“Darling,” said Galadriel, draping an arm around her niece’s shoulders as she reached her, in the balcony. “Come inside. The night is cold.”

Finduilas chuckled. “Auntie, please. I know you are dying to go out there and do all those mysterious things you are learning with Queen Melian and you want me to get out of the way.”

Galadriel snorted. “Darling. You caught me.”

Both stood for a little while, watching the full moon riding high above the thin clouds. The river stretched ahead them, shimmering in burnished silver, silently moving south. Mountains upon mountains encased the narrow strips of flat land on each side of the water. There were crops there, woods closer to the base of the mountains with good game.

“It is so fine, here,” Finduilas said at last.

“Would you not rather be down south, in Nargothrond?” Galadriel asked.

“I love Nargothrond, Auntie. It is the most splendid place on this side of the sea.”

“Your Great-Uncle Finrod would love to know that. But?”

“But nothing. I like it here better. It is better for Father. It is good for me too. I rather like running things.” Finduilas said, surprised at the recognition. Before that moment, she had never thought of what she did by her father’s side as more than lending a hand.

“You are remarkably good at it too, my darling,” said Galadriel. “What you and your father build here in the space of two years, and all the progress you are still making…”

“We are very happy here. These mist-covered mountains are home now for me.”

Galadriel smiled. “I can see that. And yes, you are right that my nephew should step out of the shadow of his father and of his uncle. My dear Angrod can be a little too demanding when it comes to his only child.”

“I did not quite say that,” Finduilas delicately pointed.

Galadriel quivered with suppressed laughter. “You did not need to. But Orodreth can be too kind… Not here – he is doing very well – but help your father guard his house until it is time for you to live your own fate.”

“Have you seen it, Auntie?” Finduilas asked.

“No,” Galadriel cut, a little too firmly. “I do not dare looking at the fate of my loved ones, not since Cousin Argon… I would go mad.”

Finduilas meditated for a moment, then nodded. “Then, what do you see? What is it that you learn in Doriath?”

Galadriel hesitated for a moment. “Why do you ask, child? Have you felt a calling?”

“Not at all, Auntie. I am still happily ordinary.”

Galadriel chuckled. “My dear, ordinary is one thing you are not.”

Finduilas smiled and turned to Galadriel. “Auntie.”

“Come,” Galadriel said. “I will show you something I learned not in Doriath but in Aman.”

Finduilas and Galadriel left the balcony and went into the warmth of the house. Galadriel offered her a cloak but, seeing that her aunt was not picking one up for herself, Finduilas relinquished the comfort.

“This may take a while,” Galadriel said, as they walked down the stairs and across the hall. “Are you sure you would not prefer a good night’s sleep?”

“I will have much time to sleep when you move on to Dorthonion. It was so nice that you took this enormous detour to see us.”

Galadriel took Finduilas’s hand as the crossed the doorway. “I missed my favourite niece.”

“I am your only niece!” Finduilas quipped with mirth. The joke never got old between the two of them.

As they moved through the small garden Finduilas had planted at the folds of the fortress, the moonlight faded. Finduilas looked up, but instead of a passing cloud, she saw a dent on the moon.

“Hurry,” Galadriel said, pulling her by the hand.

They reached a marshy pond, something Finduilas had meant to convert into a place of leisure for all the inhabitants of Minas Tirith but that she had not managed to finish yet, with all the more important work of planting vegetable gardens, organizing supplies, gathering medicinal herbs with the healer, a Sinda woman she so liked.

Galadriel stepped into the pond, taking Finduilas with her. The icy water promptly inundated her sensible work boots, but Finduilas paid it no heed, keeping her eyes to the sky. Galadriel’s grip on her hand loosened. She raised her arms to the sky and, without need to be told so, Finduilas followed her example. She waited, self-conscious, aware of the enveloping darkness, of the moon glow’s shimmer vanishing from her aunt’s skin. The river was no longer a flow of quicksilver but rather a ribbon of the blackest velvet. The night tensed around them, encroaching even on the now fiercely bright stars, until, a moment later, a thin ring of light broke the threatening blanket of blackness. She felt a sigh leaving her body, with the breath she had been holding unware. Her aunt’s lips started moving, whispering things in a mongrel language, not really Quenya, nor Sindarin, nor Valarin. She could not really hear or comprehend the words, but she knew the meaning, she could feel the force of her aunt’s intent emanating from her body.

Her own words rose unbidden from her chest to her mouth. She prayed for crops and beasts and men and women and children. As the growing light spread, she asked for golden wheat, ripe apples, fat rabbits, big fish, strong wood, healthy children, strong adults. She saw her father’s people – her people – feasting on the bounty of the land and she smiled and thanked, whom, she was not sure.

Then, the moon was full again, the air cold and light, and her aunt smiled at her with a suspicious shining in her eyes and their feet utterly frozen in the viciously cold water.

“If I ever have a daughter, may she be like you, my sweet Finduilas.”

Finduilas smiled, batted her eyelashes, trying to do away with the ridiculous tear. She felt exhausted and Galadriel looked fairly worn too. 

“You look tired, Auntie. Let us go inside.”

“It is best we stay here a little while longer, dear.” Galadriel walked back to the grass and sat on an abandoned stone. “Experience has taught me we will replenish more quickly out here than inside, in a warm bed, no matter how tempting that is right now.”

Finduilas shivered but sat by her side. “What we did…”

“Is part blessing, part prayer. It can be done when the moon starts to wax but it is more powerful when there is an eclipse.”

“Thank you,” Finduilas said, the images of abundance again flooding her mind. “Thank you.”

“I was so proud. You did not need telling at all.”

Finduilas smiled, looked at her hands, embarrassed.

After a little while, Galadriel covered her hands, now shockingly warm, over Finduilas’s. “I came to save you from the drudgery of an isolated outpost, to take you back to Nargothrond or to Dorthonion.”

Before Finduilas could even phrase her protest, Galadriel continued. “But I see I was wrong.” Galadriel looked into Finduilas’s eyes and smiled. “You do know I like to meddle a little here and there.”

Both chuckled. Finduilas felt a pleasant warmth rising from the earth through her feet, spreading through her whole body, filling her with a pacific energy. “This ritual, why the water?” she asked. “Should it be done every month? Or just in the springtime, like now? Why did we go into the water? Do we need the four elements together – light, earth, air and water? Do you think I can do it efficiently enough alone or should I seek someone to help?” At that moment, she thought again of the Sinda woman who was becoming her friend. “And how do you know when there is going to be an eclipse?”

“I can feel it in my bones,” she said. Finduilas raised an eyebrow and Galadriel started cackling. “I have a table of sky ephemera,” she said, amiably bumping into her niece.

Finduilas laughed along with Galadriel.

“I also have a handy little flask of cordial in hand,” Galadriel said, extracting the very thing from her pocket. “Come, let us go back home, lest your father starts fretting that we ran off with handsome Avari men. I will answer all your questions tomorrow, my practical little niece, but you are right about the elements and that this might work better when you have a like-minded person working by your side.”

Finduilas laughed. “Thank you, Auntie. I will hold you to that promise.”

As they returned, Finduilas kept her eyes on the fortress of Minas Tirith before them. It stood at the highest point of Tol Sirion, guarding, watching, incomplete, small, but to Finduilas, beautiful, homelike, safe.

_Finis  
April 2016_


End file.
